Backseat Blood
by Fairytale Warrior
Summary: "The eyes of Black Cat narrowed, heartless, cruel: No mercy for the damned." When Sardius's killer takes an interest in his student he decides to come over and play a game.


**WARNING: half-assed corrections have been made. (Sven is also pressed to be a little OOC too in a certain part. If it bothers you. Leave o_o) Not sure if Eve is ok and Train does do something he probably wouldn't. The entire story as a whole was pretty much just me puking out hairballs of messy ideas so I understand if things are little bit wrong. .3. Tryna cure my Writers Block~ *shakes fist***

**Disclaimer: I do not own Black Cat**

Backseat Blood

The car rushed down the street at an alarming rate, the occupants inside in a clear panic. People honked their horns at the sudden appearance of the white buggy but were unable to do anything more as the car shot past them without a second to spare. Inside, a green-haired man, a little girl, and a yellow eyed man sat at the seats- or at least, the girl and green-haired man did. The one with eerie amber eyes and brown hair lay in the back, gasping for air as the life drained out of him in the form of crimson blood.

"Hang in there Train! Just a little bit longer!" cried the green-haired man over his shoulder.

Wrapping around the male's body was a fine white suit and a tie hung around his neck. Beneath the clothing was a black shirt and atop his head was also a white hat with a single black stripe coiling around its base. A small mustache tickled his upper lip and the beginnings of a goatee dotted his chin. Finally, a mysterious eye patch hid his right eye from view.

"Try not to fall asleep," recommended the young blond girl. Her pink eyes sparkled with uncharacteristic worry as she watched the man sweat and struggle for precious oxygen. A black tie looped around her neck and a black dress shirt, as well as a skirt outlined with a white lace clutched her frame. Knee-high socks hugged the blonds' legs and her dark shoes clicked together as the car bumped across the rocky road.

'W-what a g-great s-sug-gestion, Eve..." The man, now dubbed 'Train' choked out sarcastically in an attempt at soothing their worries with a bit of his usual humor.

"M-moron! Don't speak!" shouted the driver.

"Sven..." murmured the pink eyed girl- Eve- worriedly, "drive faster!" Sven ground his teeth together as he swerved to avoid another car and picked up speed. The image of his friend bleeding to death in the back clear in his mind. A blue vehicle honked angrily as he slid past coming up at an intersection with a yellow light. Narrowing his eyes he pushed hard against the gas, forcing the car to go to its maximum acceleration. Just as the light turned red the white buggy shot past the oncoming trucks and other assortments of vehicles by a hair. _Just a little longer, I can almost see the Doctors place!_ Thought Sven with sweat rolling down his face. _Damnit, why do I have to be such a fucking idiot? What in the seven hells compelled me to say those words to him? If I hadn't driven Train out with that damn nonsense none of this would have happened!_

"Train... if you die back there, I'll kill you!" Sven cried over his shoulder. Train's only reply was his ragged gasps for air that were steadily getting quieter. It suddenly seemed like the force that was so persistently pulling at his eyelids had gained the full power of gravity and acquired extra weight, each eyelash dragged down by a 100 ton anchor. He could no longer keep them up. Short, brown lashes quivered and flickered as Train fought with all he had to stay awake, however, it was not enough. He faintly heard Eve shout something to Sven and the click of her seatbelt being released barely registered in his mind.

"Don't... come back...make sure he...asleep...!" what sounded like Sven talking quietly in the front reached the bleeding man as an unintelligible garble of words.

"...DYING!" Eve's scream was the last thing to reach Train Heartnet's ears as the goddess of blissful darkness gathered him up in her arms of warmth.

* * *

><p>-He awoke to white hot pain.<p>

Sucking in a breath of air he howled out into the heavy scent of medicine. Train's body wreathed in pure agony and the sounds of frantic voices managed to seep through the waves of pain that threatened to overwhelm him again.

"Train listen to me! It's okay, stop!"

"You're making it worse!"

"Hold him down!" Strong arms pressed against on his shoulders, attempting to restrain him with clear difficulty as he continued to struggle away from the grip. The pain blew up behind his eyes when they touched his chest and his head shot back, bashing against the metal table he lay against. Train opened his mouth in silent scream, no longer able to discern the voices around him. Even when he was fatally wounded Train Heartnet still had strength as adrenaline coursed through his veins and he continued to push and wriggle away from the hands that held him down. A growl of pain erupted from the back of his throat as his agony suddenly intensified and the brown haired man forced himself not to cry out again by biting down hard onto the inside of his cheek. He could not prevent himself from fighting back and kicked out with his left leg. Bad idea. Dark spots littered his vision and left him wondering if any part of his body _wasn't _injured in the fight he'd had whilst protecting Sven and Eve.

"I'm sorry Train, I'm so sorry," whispered a voice, supposedly the owner of whomever it was holding him down. The yellow-eyed sweeper was compelled to say something, anything to the person before him, get them to let him go because it _hurt_ so much. He could no longer tell physical apart from mental as his heart throbbed at those words. Something scraped against his arm and there was the sensation of being pinched. Suddenly, the pain stopped tearing at him, growing silent as whatever drug they had given him took effect. Coursing through his veins the drug soothed the agony his body struggled against like rain putting out an angry fire. The pressure on his shoulders and chest lessened allowing a slow sigh to whisper past his lips. In the blurry world around him he could make out loud clangs that seemed to echo, bouncing around his mind like a rubber ball.

"What...that?" asked a voice.

Train was unable to make out the response.

"...pain?"

"….Probably," replied an unfamiliar tone. These words meant nothing to Train as he slowly slipped back into unconsciousness. However, just before he fell away from the bright lights and strange voices there was one last fragment that he was able to catch.

"...Train..."

Sven sat next to a brown haired man surrounded by the sterile smell of medicine and clean white sheets. From time to time the unconscious man would twitch restlessly in his sleep, sweat beading down his furrowed brow and each time he did Sven would wince in response. This was all his fault, it was his fault for blindly assuming that Eve had been injured because of Train. It was his fault for yelling at him. It was his fault...

...for being such an idiot...

* * *

><p>Sven sucked in a whiff of his cigarette, looking out the open window with a thoughtful expression on his face. About an hour ago Train and Eve had gone out to stock back up on emergency food seeing how they were likely to stay in this town for some time. They had offered to have him come along but he had declined, saying that he was too tired to go gallivanting off with Train and get into trouble. And that was exactly it, he was <em>tired.<em> He was tired and irritable because he had been unable to find the time to visit Loyd, his deceased investigative partner, this year because he was too busy paying off debts that had Train built up. He hadn't let it outright show to either Train or Eve but he was frustrated. It was another reason why he had refused to go along with them, he did not want to snap and hurt them.

Due to their target becoming stationary and the fact that Rubeck had obtained a fair deal of high bounties the exhausted trio had decided to settle down for a week or so. And quite frankly Sven found himself feeling rather relieved at this, he'd grown tired of driving.

Smoke drifted past his lips, twisting and turning with toxic, but at the same time mesmerizing beauty. An extra gust of air produced by Sven himself caused the squirming mass of decay to scatter and go flying into the face of a cat splayed lethargically across the railing that framed the window. With quite the irritated hiss the feline shot up and spat at the green haired man in a fit of fury. Puffing out its fur in an attempt to make itself assume a larger form and scare the man who had just disturbed its rest the white cat narrowed its eyes and snarled at Sven before turning tail and trotting away.

Watching the small cat storm off with a blank look in his eye, Sven sourly wondered just what kind of trouble his comrades had gotten into this time. Knowing Train it really could be just about anything.

…'just about anything'

Eye brows knitting together slightly in concern Sven contemplated on going out to look for his partners when the door suddenly kicked open.

In came Train and Eve, the latter of which smeared with blood and the former with a worried but mostly gravely serious expression painted over his face.

"Sven!" Train yelped as he entered closely behind Eve.

"Eve, what happened?" Sven cried in return, completely ignoring his friend.

Eve was about to wave his concern away and explain that most of the blood wasn't hers, that the only wound she had sustained had been a cut on her upper right arm and a few bruises. However, before she could utter a word Sven exploded. This was the last straw, Train had probably gotten into trouble again and then Eve had been wounded because of it. The small blonde was too much like a daughter to Sven and anyone who so much as scratched her was gunna have to face the mother grizzly.

"What did you do Train?" He hissed.

Train sputtered, "what did _I_ do-?" he began but was cut off.

"Don't be an idiot, you're always dragging other people into trouble!" his brown-haired friend opened his mouth to try and respond but Sven would not give him an opening and continued furiously. "Ever since we picked you up you've been nothing but a damn nuisance! You attract more enemies because of your name and have us running for our lives at almost every encounter we have with our bounties. You've even brought the great Chronos organization upon us- more than once! How many times have we almost _died_, Train? How many times have we almost died b_ecause of you?_"

In truth Sven knew that what he had said was wrong, the entire reason they were still walking through the streets today was because of the mischievous and skill full assassin. But he was so tired and irritable that he could not help himself. Someone needed to be blamed and he selfishly took it out on the only one who could help.

Train was silent, his head was bowed and his long, brown locks covered his eyes from view as he thought. Maybe Sven was just a bit more 'dead on his feet' then he had let on, maybe that was the reason for such rage. Maybe he was calming down as Train stood there right now. The brown head lifted a hair.

"**You haven't changed from the Black Cat you used to be**."

Train jolted, caging a strangled gasp similar to the sound of a cat having its tail stepped on behind his clenched teeth.

"I see…" he finally murmured after an extensive pause. Turning around he wordlessly left the apartment.

Train:

_Why am I not surprised?_ Train thought in honest confusion as he walked down the street. _Have I really been expecting this so much? _It was understandable how Sven wanted him to be gone, or at least that's what he tried telling himself. Train understood just how much the green haired sweeper truly cared for Eve but that's not to say that his brown haired companion did not feel the same. That burly gang had ambushed the two of them on their way back to Sven, outnumbering them almost twelve to two.

Of course this was no problem for Train at all, easily able to take out all of them without even drawing Hades. Eve on the other hand, found herself caught in a tussle with the largest man of the group, one that was able to shoot fire from his palms. It may have had something to do with the elixir that Rinslet was so keen on finding. In any case before Train couldn't completely take out the stubborn mob the burly, fire-breathing monster managed to land a blow on the blond girl. Luckily she was not injured to the point where it was critical but she had landed with a couple of scratches and bruises. The overall blood smear that she ended up with was due to a misfire on the part of another clumsy muscle man, accidentally shooting his leader and spraying Eve with crimson.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips and without his consent, or to his apparent attention, his legs drew to a halt. Leaning back ever so slightly on his heels, the spiky haired man lifted his face to the miserable grey clouds above. They begged to be given permission to soak the earth with their oceans of water. Now that he thought about it Train _had_ actually kept him from visiting Loyd this year, his own carelessness wrapping metaphorical chains around the green-haired man's body and keeping him away from his old comrade. Away from the man buried ten feet underground. Not only that, but the elder man had thrown his already exhausted body into full throttle when he was given no other choice than to drive their little band of oddities half way across the continent.

Sven had more than enough reason to be stressed and the amber-eyed assassin understood that feeling well enough himself to know that his partner didn't mean anything that he had said. What had been speaking that time was not Sven but his bottled up emotions, shaken so hard that the cap had exploded off the top in a crazed, uncontrolled manner. Just like a bottle of champagne.

_Ah_, he though as cold drops of rain began to sting his face,_ so that's why I'm not surprised_.

An enigmatic crackling noise sucked his attention towards a lonely, yellowed paper barely clinging to a bulletin board as it was assaulted by a furious wind. A few moments passed where he watched the thing stubbornly fight back against the vengeful opponent before he found himself drawn to it. An image of a cloaked man with greyed hair and chilling eyes had glimpsed him from its threatened position.

The image was familiar.

Time around Train Heartnet grew to a stop as his eyes widened ever so slowly, his face paling. The image of Sardius stared at him mockingly, asking him for what seemed to be the millionth time; "_will you choose to live? Or to die? The decision is yours._"

Puddles splashed around his feet as he raced over to the wanted poster, panic blossoming in his chest and curling around his heart with urges to hasten. He ripped the poster off the bulletin board like it deserved to suffer seven long years of endless water torture and held it up to read.

**SWEEP LIST**

**Sardius (Last name unkown)**

**Age: Unkown **

_He is responsible for the destruction of the Regional Institute for Professional Investigative Services (RIPIS) and the murder of Taino __Kotsoteka; Captain of RIPIS's elite squad of Desert Hawks._

**Wanted Dead or Alive**

**Reward - 65,000,000**

The blank expanse where the man's face should have been was empty, a sickeningly vacant thing that sought out to Train with roping arms and bared teeth. Too fast to get a picture, too clever to wrap the sluggish brain around, too much god-defying strength to make the body seem static no matter how frantic the mind attempted to force it into action. The darkness befalling his target would make no indication of pleasure, absent of any emotion at all as the one foolish enough to even consider making the feeble attempt to snap a photo almost gets enough time to fumble with it. Train could almost laugh at the image it gave him, some pathetic camera man actually attempting to get a picture of Sardius. He was the very man who trained him, who murdered his parents and invited him to either choose life or death. Those cold, hard hands had taught him how to hold a gun and no matter how furious his struggles Train was never able to land a hit on the man. Every cell of blood, the very core to his DNA had shrieked calls of malevolent intentions lusting with the dripping desire to make the silver haired man whom had taken his warmth away pay the price.

Yet despite his infatuated will to take away the elder's existence he was given the chance. It had been one of the upmost _pathetic_ positions that Train had ever seen in his life. Sardius, the man whose soul represented Lucipher himself, didn't even have the honor to _live. _He'd forced his 'student' out into the rain to buy groceries and when the brown haired child had returned it had been to the black cloaked figure slumped against the wall surrounding their house and bleeding to death. Sardius merely laughed when Train had lost his temper and mocked him for being in such a feeble state, for allowing himself to die at the hands of another when it was supposed to have been his job.

The old bounty poster felt like withered skin in his hands, soft and revolting to the touch. But at the same time his fingers felt as if they were blistering, licked by liquid Nitrogen. No average human mind could ever hope to move as fast as his own. Scenarios and possibilities tore through his head in desperate scrambles to decipher the meaning behind the yellow thing in his hands. Sardius had been killed, his bounty taken down, and he had been removed from the world for about thirteen or so years now. Since then Train's name had become more feared than any in history. Sven and Eve likely knew nothing of Sardius, however, seeing as how his name never made it past the crevices of the underworld. The way he was now, Train was sure that he could've ripped his old mentor off his ass and teach him the true meaning of shame if he'd had the balls to live.

In all these years since, not once has the Black Cat ever wondered where or who Sardius's killer was. Interest over the subject has kept him simply uncaring, aside from being spiteful over stealing away his prey. Whoever the perpetrator was did not share this feeling with him however, as the spiky haired man turned the page over to see his message;

_We're waiting for you at home, Black Cat._

The curved, slender words wisping delicately over the back of the wanted poster in a complex cursive manner threw sharpened bullets into his chest and his heart stopped, stunned into silencing its routine. The organ began pumping blood through his system a few seconds later and by that time Train had bolted back to the hotel, becoming nothing more than a blur that shot over the deserted sidewalks.

With rainwater running its cold, lifeless fingers through his hair and down his chin he ignored the weight of his clothing, the slap of drenched pants against his ankles. The eyes of Black Cat narrowed, heartless, cruel.

No mercy for the damned.

The door had closed and Train's light footsteps had faded. Like black and white paint accidentally mixed together tense rage and pure surprise remained hanging in the atmosphere. Sven refused to look at Eve for a few moments before he asked the blond once more;

"Are you alright?" Eve was a smart kid, holding a mind brighter than that of even most adults that gave her the capability to analyze each scenario carefully. But what could she do in such one as this? No amount of yelling would solve the problem and no amount of screaming would bring Train back. Eve took a deep breath and decided to handle to situation maturely. She would listen to Sven and let him treat her wound before explaining to him what had happened. Then when Sven realized his mistake the two of them would put on some coats, get an umbrella, and bravely storm out into the rain to begin the expedition in searching for Train.

"Yes," she replied calmly, allowing him to lead her towards the bathroom. He said nothing to her as he grabbed a cloth and began to clean away the blood on his youngest companion's arm. Eve left the green haired man to his thoughts but watched out of the corner of her eye his reaction as he failed to see any mar. There was just that single, innocent cut on her shoulder and that was it. His eyebrows furrowed, confusion swirling in depths of orange.

"The blood is not my own," clarified the pink haired girl.

"What?" disbelief twisted his expression further and Eve noted the increase of wrinkles.

She looked at him; "The blood is not my own. It belongs to the man who accidentally shot his own comrade," she said again. "This is the only wound I have aside from a few bruises. Train checked me over after the fight."

As Eve carefully explained the story to the green haired man she observed the widening of his eyes, the beginnings of sweat on his brow, and the horrid guilt swimming over his features as he realized what he'd done. So focused the two had been that the quiet sound of hissing had completely escaped their attention and soon a new element had been added to their air. Black dots spun across Sven's vision and he felt himself hobble to the side, feeling as if hung from his ankles for several long hours.

_Sleeping gas?_ The realization hit him and he turned half-lidded eyes towards Eve when his ears reached out and caught the sound of her body falling. Blond hair sprawled out over the tile flooring porcelain face slightly scrunched, she was already sleeping. Reaching out to grab her into his arms and flee before he fell to the same fate, Sven felt his knees quiver and buckle underneath him. He winced when they touched the hard tiles rather heavily and he wasn't sure when his hot, sultry face connected with the cool touch of tile that caressed his oddly heated body.

Steps patted across the carpet, coming closer. His breath seeming louder, a figure dressed in worn grey rags stood over him. The eyes that looked down at the unconscious princess and her fair king, watching as his prey struggled and squirmed in the arms of sleep like an excited child who'd been commanded to take rest. Sven found himself petrified by the pure emptiness those eyes contained, just like windows to a world of nothing.

An extra kick to his head acted as a helping hand to push him over that last step and his eyelids closed gratefully.

"You are Train Heartnet?"

The voice sounded as if it had smoked one cigar too many when it pulled Sven from the folds of blissful sleep. He managed to open his eyes to the tiniest slivers, like thin needles to explore the new world around him. Fear suddenly wrapped thorns around his heart when he came to the realization that Eve was nowhere in sight and the green haired man grated his eyes across the surrounding area in search for the young blond. He found her laying still unconscious a few feet away. Relief drove his anxiety away like pain killers and for a brief moment Sven closed his eyes. Opening them once more after calming himself he continued surveying his surroundings. The well-dressed sweeper's mind paused when it processed the familiarity of their rented inn's living room. So their assailer hadn't bothered to move them? More importantly it didn't feel like he had been bound at all as his vision further proved when it noticed the absence of any restraints. It was unfortunate that he did not realize the numbness clothing his body. Deciding he could pull off a surprise attack later the former IBI agent choose to remain static. (And perhaps if he'd chosen to move he would have realized his own immobility.)

A few feet away, Train stood panting slightly at the door. The atmosphere around him dripped threats of death, oozed scarlet tension as his amber eyes narrowed down to slits. He was wearing the assassin's face, the face of Black Cat.

"T-Train?" he struggled to grunt his comrade's name and even when he did the green haired sweeper was given no attention for it. There was a rustle of clothing and without ever being given the chance to understand what was going on, Sven found himself eating the barrel of a gun.

"Hey," the warning in Train's voice was enough to warrant a small drop of fear.

"Don't worry, I haven't harmed your friends any. All I did was knock them out with sleeping gas and administered some specialized puffer fish poison into their bodies to prevent them from moving. It'll only last for about ten or so minutes," grinned the man in rags, his long black hair pulled into a pony and gelled thickly to prevent any strands from falling. "So I take it you saw the poster I put up for you then?"

_Poster? Puffer fish poison?_ Sven thought warily, _who the hell is this guy? What is he talking about?_

The smile became brighter than the sun as it surged over the black haired man's cheeks and he closed his eyes kindly. "I am Icarus, the one who killed Sardius. I believe he was the man you could call your foster father," he stated this like he was handing over a hundred bottles of milk to the former assassin and Sven could feel hooks peel his eyes open to their maximum size. Face becoming befitting to that of ghost and if it wasn't already full of the opposing end of this man's gun, he would have dropped his jaw. While his partner's thoughts sputtered and stumbled over themselves Train raised his gun.

"You are mistaken," he stated coldly. "That man was no such thing; all he did was teach me how to survive." Icarus cocked his head to the side rather innocently for a man shoving a gun barrel into another's mouth.

"By that I hypothesize you mean he taught you how to kill," smirked Icarus playfully. Train's eyes became narrow slits and the atmosphere weighed down with the world's strongest force of dripping malice, Sven almost felt as if Creed were the one threatening his life and not this Icarus.

"Do you want to find out?" Train's spoken words were gifted the response of a gun firing and Sven was thrown to the floor. The spiky haired sweeper had raised his gun to deflect the blow, turning it so the bullet deflected right back. Ducking, the man who Sven now noticed had a white marble replacing his left eye fired two more bullets. Both of which aimed straight for Train's chest.

Two steps forward.

Hades deflected the first bullet.

Another steady step.

The black oriented gun tossed the second aside like it was nothing. All that could be seen of the ex-assassin's face was his amber eyes, narrowed and eager to see the spilling of his opponent's blood.

"_**You haven't changed from the Black Cat you used to be**__."_

Sven's own words echoed in his mind as he watched in horror the carefree cat become swallowed in Lucifer's shadow once more. He couldn't help but wonder if he was responsible for this and he wanted oh so bad to slap himself across the face. To hear that collision of skin on skin, to feel that sharp pain. He wanted to apologize to his partner and fight together with him. But those words could not be taken back.

Icarus launched himself forwards and with speeds rival to that of a spotted cheetah he flickered directly in front of Train's face prepared to press the cold, stinging metal of his gun to flesh. Mentally cursing he bent back just as the weapon fired, flipping back and hitting the other in the chin with his feet. Rolling on his left hand and falling into a crouch Train lifted his gun and shot it straight into the barrel of the other's. Without a care for it Icarus tossed the now useless thing aside, sweeping a hand down with unexpected precision. A short, stubby blade threw itself from his sleeve and ripped its jagged teeth through Train's leg. His attempt at running to the side effectively halted for not but a heartbeat the former assassin grimaced. Hades blocked the next knife and followed up with the release of a red tipped bullet as its master swooped down and with practiced skill threw the blade that had been embedded into his leg towards his opponents head.

The one eyed man twisted to the side to avoid the bullet, realizing its explosive nature but not quite comprehending the reflective metal door hinge directly behind him. (AN: It's possible, ok? XD) Deadly accuracy had calculated the exact position where the bullet could be effectively bounced back to hit the target's spine. If not for the sound made when the projectile touched the hinge, Icarus wouldn't have even known it was coming. Blood exploded out into the air, flinging itself across the walls and floor to stain furniture and dye expensive cloth red. The black and gold gun lowered and Train flipped open the cartage to reload, taking easy time to insert each bullet. Before him cloaked shoulders rose and fell as the eldered man pants were accompanied by the spilling of his own blood down the dirtied rags; it poured in sickly amounts and crawled across his legs to pool on the floor.

Short, tired laughter escaped out along the ragged gasps like a boat pulled by the tide; "you're pretty damn dangerous kid." With an expert and well-practiced flick Train snapped his favorite gun closed and raised his head to look his opponent in the eye.

"You're not so bad yourself," he said dully, voice displaying enough literacy to get across that he didn't care for the matter at all. Just for a moment, the slightest of milliseconds brought an amber eye over to check on Eve who lay not too far away.

"Heh, interesting. It seems that you're weaknesses are a little different than your teachers," observed the other thoughtfully, his marble eye sparkled from its place wrapped in scarred flesh. The words brought Train's eyes down as they squeezed themselves to realized slits. Sven didn't even see the hand move, not quite sure where or who fired the next bullet before he blinked and saw his comrade standing over Eve's unconscious body on the other side of the room, spitting out blood. Two holes puked crimson from the carved out flesh of Train's chest. The green haired sweeper's eyes exploded in slow-mo, breathe catching in his throat as he realized he couldn't tell if whether or not one had pierced his right lung. The other had rammed its horns with a rib and no doubt had broken it.

"I see," he grunted, "so you're the kind of coward that attacks innocent children."

"A ruptured lung, tendons in the lower leg ripped, a broken rib, and massive amounts of blood loss," listed Icarus, attempting to lower the injured man's confidence by announcing to him the fatalities of his own wounds. The Black Cat didn't like thinking about how his own blood was curling around the body of his and Sven's little Princess beneath him. It stuck to her face and invited itself into the fabric of her clothes; the blood was absorbed like water by the roots of a tree. Clearly he didn't give half a shit of what the annoying marble-eye man was prattling on about when he saw his own drops of blood on her porcelain face.

"Train Heartnet, you will die here." At this Train straightened but didn't lift his head, ignoring the thrusting pain as it speared his frame and attempted to tear it apart. He breathed hesitation and then looked up. Blood spat across his face and eyes as they became deadly serious, as threatening as a panther watching its prey. Assessing each and every minute feature on his opponent, not just eager to kill but needing to for survival. The atmosphere gave a violent shudder as if it would collapse under its own weight and Train glared through his dripping bangs.

"**Mortem Nunquam Fracto,**" the words clicked and fell from his tongue better than any English he'd ever spoken and fear chained itself into Icarus's heart, sewing itself into a man who had never feared a thing in his long life. Somewhere in the distance a cat screeched and he was filled with horrified surprise when blood shot out of his chest. A single grey eye turned to gaze at the fountain of scarlet paint exuding his body. Jaw dropping open to ask for clarification as to _what the hell just happened_ it was instead interrupted by the gushing of blood. Not quite realizing he was doing it, Sven lifted himself from the floor and rose to unsteady feet.

The surprise reflected on Icarus's face suddenly faded into a big grin and he used the last of his energy to laugh and say through his own body fluids; "fascinating! Feel proud for this, Heartnet, because you have just become the first person to have ever defeated me."

Train's responding expression showed annoyed exasperation, _would you just fall already?_ It seemed to say. As if he'd voiced the thought the shaggy figure fell into his own blood and just as he did the tiniest movement from behind him hinted to Eve's awakening. There was a pause as she lifted herself to her knees. Sven's parental instincts kicking into gear acted as rockets to propel him forwards and land him by her side.

"Eve!" he practically squeaked, "are you alright?" his single orange eye wide with concern.

"Blood?" she asked, his cries not seeming to reach her ears. Deciding not to wait for her to take precious time processing the situation he began patting her down in search of any wounds, knowing that she was likely fine but wishing to be better safe than sorry.

His breath ragged and strained, Train managed to ask without turning around, "Sven, is Eve…?"

"She's alright," he answered after a moment. He heard a soft sigh of relief and then the tumbling of a body, followed close behind by Eve's uncharacteristic cry of alarm.

"_Train!_"

And from there the trio had sped off in their little buggy to a nearby underground doctor where Sven had had to rush into the operations room when Dr. Caddo had called for his assistance. He'd held his partner down as he struggled viciously in the arms of pain and then waited the remainder of the operation with Eve in the lobby.

Now he sat with said blond sleeping in a chair next to his with her arms resting on the white sheets, using them as pillows. Watching and waiting for his partner to open his amber eyes and tell him that he looked like shit, to disregard his own ill health and pretend to see it in Sven's eyes instead. Actually, that is exactly what he would do. The pain swirling in the single pool of his orange optic would definitely grab the attention of the ever vigilant sweeper.

A tube had been fed into the ex-assassin's throat to give him oxygen and Sven had been reassured that the bullet had only _barely_ grazed the lung (1). The reason for its placement being only that Train had apparently been having an exceptionally hard time breathing during the procedure. There was also his broken rib which pressed against it just enough to cause concern over the limitation it had on his breathing. With all of his wounds Train wasn't supposed to wake up for another week or so.

Sven tried not to think about the problems he'd have to face upon arriving back at the hotel. Likely he would have to convince the police that he and Eve had been victims and not murders as well as add the damage done on the apartment to their debts.

Closing his eyes he sighed in agitation, "what a mess," he murmured.

"Perhaps you should wash up then," recommended a new voice, hushed and tense from pain. "To think my partner doesn't even have the decency to keep clean," Train grumbled, gazing with half-lidded eyes at the ceiling above.

A grin spread over Sven's face, soaked in relief and honest joy, "because you look any better."

The former assassin's soft smile was all he had energy for as he fought against his unwilling eyes.

"So what," he breathed, "are you lookin' so guilty for?"

The one-eyed sweeper wasn't quite sure how to respond to that for a few moments. "We can talk about that later," he said maturely, "get some rest for now, Train."

"Pot calling the kettle black" the other accused, stubbornly refusing to sleep, "I hold no grudges against you for saying what you did," he then admitted (2).

Sven was slightly startled by the wisdom and blatant forgiveness that his normally so childish partner demonstrated that he was about ready to chalk it up to the pain killers talking before an oh so Train like grin spouted across his face and he said something only he would say- with or without drugs;

"You were just having your man period."

* * *

><p><strong>(1): The tube is going through his nose and then down his throat so it's not limiting his ability to talk. <strong>

**(2): pain killers are accusing Sven of being a hypocrite. **

**I also apologize for the numerous author's notes in there, someday I'll do something about them. I'm well aware of the errors as far as characterization and plot (1: Train probably wouldn't kill Icarus. 2) Sven would never overreact like that *unless someone died. Etc, Etc) but yeah, review, fav, or go do something else. Shoo, Shoo!**


End file.
